


It's Always Darkest Before the Dawn (Illustrated)

by redundant_angel



Series: The Art of Temptation [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Anxious Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), BAMF Crowley (Good Omens), Biting, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley is a Mess (Good Omens), Crowley's Bentley (Good Omens), Fantasizing, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Gift Giving, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Jealous Aziraphale (Good Omens), Love Bites, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, New Year's Eve, Pining, Porn with Feelings, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Power Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley, Public Display of Affection, Quote: You go too fast for me Crowley (Good Omens), Romantic Fluff, Semi-Public Sex, Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Smut, Temptation, Topping from the Bottom, Wall Slam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-24 22:41:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21905677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redundant_angel/pseuds/redundant_angel
Summary: Unable to hold out any longer, Aziraphale has given in and played right into Crowley’s hand.  But what if a temptation was all this would ever be?______"Sometimes when people are around me, they tend to pick up a bit of residual... ”Lust?... Love?...Crowley searched for the right words. How could he tell Aziraphale that his own feelings towards the angel were indirectly stimulating the sexual desires of everyone at the party?“Demonic energy,” Crowley settled on.  “And I’ve never known you to be bothered by it before.”Aziraphale crossed his arms indignantly.  “Well!  Perhaps it wouldn’t bother me so much if you ever were to focus any of that… "demonic energy"... on me."“What?”  Crowley stared back at him in disbelief.“You could, you know. Tempt me.”
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: The Art of Temptation [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1577911
Comments: 133
Kudos: 630
Collections: Dark Crowley, The Good Omens Library, Tip Top Stories, ineffably horny





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the direct sequel to the first story in this series: "These Violent Delights."  
> 

_And every demon wants his pound of flesh  
But I like to keep some things to myself  
I like to keep my issues strong  
It's always darkest before the dawn  
_-Florence and the Machine

_December, 2019_

Crowley shivered and pulled his red scarf tighter around his neck as he gazed out across the pond. The snow was really sticking now; coating the grounds of St. James Park in a thick blanket and depositing wispy snowflakes all over his dark overcoat. He hated this time of year. The air was far too cold for his liking and the moisture would cause his sunglasses to fog up. Still there was one thing Crowley did enjoy about the winter season, and that was meeting up with Aziraphale to visit the Christmas markets.

Aziraphale adored Christmas and Crowley loved to spoil him with sweets, knit sweaters, and mulled wine. Plus, the cold temperatures gave Crowley a practical excuse to lean in close to the angel in an effort to keep warm, and Aziraphale never seemed to mind the extra body heat. It was as close as Crowley physically could get to Aziraphale these days and he would happily take it, although ever since the failed apocalypse, Crowley had found himself wishing fervently for more. He'd flirt with Aziraphale, pushing the envelope as far as he thought he could go without outright giving himself away. Sometimes Crowley thought he should just suck it up and tell Aziraphale how he felt, but he was terrified that his feelings wouldn't be reciprocated. 

Crowley knew Aziraphale loved him in a way, but the angel also loved old manuscripts and tea with cookies, and expensive dinners out. The angel also hadn't tried anything with Crowley since that night in 1993 where he tried to tempt him into bed, and even that had been for an ulterior motive. After that, Crowley had left the door open for Aziraphale to make the next move if he so chose to, but the angel never did, so Crowley was starting to wonder if Aziraphale would never be ready to take the next step. 

After all this time, Crowley still held on to hope that the angel might eventually come round. So even though it was most assuredly not his thing, leisurely perusing Christmas markets had been their plans that afternoon. Aziraphale was supposed to meet Crowley in St. James’ Park at noon, and now it was almost one o’clock and the angel had yet to make an appearance. 

Crowley stretched and tossed another handful of birdseed into the pond. He watched as the ducks scrambled over each other, trying to get their fill. Aziraphale had often accused Crowley of drifting off from time to time during their conversations, which held some truth as the angel did tend to prattle on sometimes. But Crowley had been listening and he knew that Aziraphale had a scheduled delivery at the bookshop that morning. A sought-after edition of the full works of William Shakespeare was arriving from out of town, and the angel had been eagerly waiting to get his hands on it. Crowley figured that Aziraphale’s business at the bookshop was causing him to run a little late and the angel was most likely caught up studying his new purchase. And yet, he couldn’t seem to shake the feeling that something was wrong.

He pulled out his cellphone and dialed Aziraphale’s number. No answer.

Another gust of wind swept across the park and Crowley shivered again. There was a sinking feeling of dread that had been gnawing at him every moment he’d looked back over his shoulder without seeing the angel heading up the path towards him. Normally the demon wouldn’t be so quick to worry about Aziraphale, but after what they’d been through this year, with both of their respective sides trying to put them to death, it was hard not to be a little jumpy.

Crowley sighed, tossed the rest of his bag of birdseed into the pond, much to the joy of the ducks, and began to walk back to his Bentley.

The angel was so stubborn sometimes. He refused to carry a cell phone which meant Crowley had to rely on old fashioned methods of getting in touch with him. He would just have to show up in person at the bookshop. Make sure everything was alright, give the angel a hard time for losing track of the time, and spend the rest of the afternoon lounging on his couch. Crowley had all the time in the world these days, seeing as he was retired, after all. Well, semi-retired. Causing mayhem and discord was a tough habit to kick.

  
***

As Crowley pulled up to the corner outside Aziraphale’s bookshop, the first thing that he noticed was that the lights inside shop were eerily dark. Perhaps the angel wasn’t home? Maybe they’d just missed each other. His senses were telling him that Aziraphale was nearby, so Crowley decided it was best if he just took a quick look inside the shop. He walked up to the front door, debated knocking, then decided to hell with that and with a flick of his wrist, the doors flew open to grant him access.

“Angel?” he called out hesitantly. “You here?”

There was no reply. Crowley strode inside, peering around bookcases, and stacks of old books and manuscripts. He turned the corner towards the rotunda and any hope that he had been overreacting shattered into a million pieces.

There, strewed haphazardly across the floor lay several priceless books, as though someone had thrown them down in a fit of rage. Aziraphale’s favorite winged mug lay on its side beside the pile of books, tea splashed across the floor. There was no sign of the angel, but clearly there had been altercation.  
  
“Aziraphale!” Crowley cried out again, the sound of his own voice was broken and hollow. He braced himself, feeling a brisk shift of energy as his dark wings broke through from the astral plane and into this one. Papers flew and fluttered off the desk. His fangs itched and his nails grew sharp as he prepared himself for a fight.

He tore frantically through the bookshop, looking for any sign of the angel or an intruder, but finding no sign of anyone. No response. No sound. Nothing. No monster sprang from the shadows to rip him to shreds, although it already felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest. 

Crowley bared his teeth, wishing he knew who it was that he was going to have to kill first. Chances were that this was Gabriel or Beelzebub’s doing, or possibly both. He knew that he wouldn’t last two seconds in a fight against Beelzebub, but Gabriel was an idiot and that might give Crowley the upper hand. He growled with frustration and anguish. How could he have let this happen? They should have been more careful. They should have stuck together. He should have told Aziraphale how he felt a long time ago-  
  
“Crowley?”  
  
Crowley spun around and saw Aziraphale climbing down the staircase towards him. The angel looked exhausted, and somewhat disheveled, but otherwise unharmed.  
  
“Angel!” Crowley practically yelled, stumbling breathlessly across the floor towards him.  
  
The angel’s eyes went wide as he looked Crowley over. “Did I miss something? You look as though you’re about to fight an angry mob.”  
  
Crowley realized his jaw was hanging open and he promptly shut it. He shuttered his wings and willed his features back to their normal appearance. “Bloody hell, angel. You don’t show up for our meeting in the park, so I came over here to check on you and I find the lights out and books strewn all over the floor. What was I supposed to think?”  
  
Aziraphale stared down at the mess on the floor. “Oh, dear.”  
  
“Oh dear? That’s all you have to say?” Crowley spat out angrily.  
  
The angel stepped forward and picked up his mug, looking it over for cracks with a distressed expression. “I’m sorry, Crowley. Please forgive me for forgetting our plans today. After the book delivery this morning, I suddenly found myself feeling very worn out and I decided to take a quick nap.”  
  
Crowley shot him a disbelieving look. “You? Taking a nap? Since when?”  
  
The angel shrugged. “From time to time, I do make use of my bedroom. You may recall that I do own a bed…”  
  
Crowley swallowed. He hadn’t forgotten. It was just that Aziraphale’s bed, as well everything that had happened between them in it, had never been mentioned again. It had taken Crowley a long time to push those events from the forefront of his brain, but the memory was burned into his soul forever.  
  
“And how did the books get knocked onto the floor? And the mug?”  
  
Aziraphale was staring off into the distance as though he had been thinking back on something from many years ago. “Oh, I guess I was just a bit clumsy, that’s all.”  
  
Crowley wasn’t sure he bought that explanation, but he decided not to press the subject further. His heart had only now stopped beating out of control and all he wanted to feel at this point was the reassuring sense of relief that had washed over him the moment he’d seen Aziraphale appear on the staircase. All was well, when Crowley had been so certain only moments ago that his life had been over.  
  
“Alright, angel, I’m just glad you’re not in danger. I was… worried. You know, because of, everything that’s happened this year.”  
  
“Of course, dear,” said Aziraphale as he collected the fallen books from the floor and placed them gently back atop his desk. “And I appreciate your concern immensely.”  
  
“But if you are going to make a habit of taking naps, maybe you should invest in an alarm clock?” Crowley teased. “Or better, yet. I’ll get you a cellphone. Alarm clock included. That way you will always have your phone with you whenever I…”

_need to know that you’re alright_

“…need to get in touch.”  
  
“Perhaps you’re right, dear,” said Aziraphale, surprising the demon with his response.

Crowley was sure Aziraphale would have laughed him out of the room at the suggestion. But maybe the angel was finally coming around to the convenience it would provide him. 

“You still want to go out?”  
  
Aziraphale shook his head. “Could I take a rain check? I was hoping to spend a bit more time studying the new book I just acquired.”  
  
“Oh. Yeah... 'course, let's reschedule.”  
  
“Thank you, dear.”  
  
Crowley could tell from the expression on Aziraphale’s face that he was not up for having company and decided it was probably best if he just left.  
  
“I’ll see you later, Aziraphale,” Crowley said, and he slipped quietly outside into the frigid afternoon air, wondering what in the fuck had just happened.

***

  
  
Christmas had come and gone and Aziraphale had yet to reschedule any plans with Crowley. There had been a sort of awkward interaction on Christmas day, when Crowley had stopped by the bookshop, his arms full of parcels; gifts for Aziraphale. The angel hadn't opened the door right away and when he finally did, Crowley could tell he'd just gotten out of bed. Aziraphale had not even bothered to put up a tree this year, which Crowley had found rather troublesome as it was so out of character. 

"What's wrong, angel?" Crowley had finally asked, deciding he couldn't stand it anymore.

"What do you mean?" said Aziraphale.

Crowley waved a hand around the bookshop, void of any and all Christmas cheer. "This isn't like you. You love Christmas. Normally you'd have this place strung up like it was Santa's workshop."

Aziraphale shrugged. "I just haven't been in the mood this year, Crowley."

"I can tell that, I'd just like to know why. Does it have something to do with the fallout after the apocalypse?"

"Yes, well that has something to do with it. I've been feeling a bit lost lately. Not quite sure what my role is anymore."

"I understand that. I feel a bit lost myself sometimes. Good thing we've got each other, right?"

Aziraphale smiled but even his smile seemed sad. Seeing Aziraphale upset like this was killing Crowley, and worrying that it was because of something he'd done was even worse.

"Look, why don't we do something we haven't done in a while. I'll take you to the Ritz? They'll be open again tomorrow." They hadn’t been to the Ritz since the day after the world almost ended, and Crowley figured the angel might really enjoy himself if he just took a moment to remember all the sweet things that life on earth had to offer.

Aziraphale considered Crowley's offer for a moment, then replied, "That would be lovely." 

The next day, Crowley was about to leave his apartment to pick up Aziraphale for dinner when his phone rang. 

“Hey, angel, you ready to go?” Crowley said, his voice brimming with his usual swagger. There was a pause on the other end up the line. 

“Actually, Crowley, I’m calling to see if you wouldn’t mind terribly if we rescheduled.”  
  
_Oh, no no no._ “Everything okay?”  
  
“Yes, everything is fine. I’m just feeling a bit tired. I think I’d rather stay in tonight.”  
  
“Want some company? I can swing by.”  
  
“Thank you, but I think I’d just like to be alone tonight, if it’s all the same to you. I’m going to try to get some shut-eye.”

Crowley’s breath caught in his throat. This was worse than he'd thought. “Yeah, alright. I’ll uh, talk to you later then.”  
  
“Goodnight, Crowley.” Aziraphale hung up.  
  
Crowley was floored. This was not normal for Aziraphale. Turning down dinner at the Ritz so that he could stay home and sleep? Something had to be wrong. Was it possible that Aziraphale was depressed? Could angels get depressed? They had been through a lot this year, but they had made it through and Crowley only saw this as a reason to celebrate. It was the year that very nearly wasn’t. They’d help to save the world, and, in the process, they’d freed themselves from having to take orders from their respective head offices. They could spend as much time together now as they wanted, without having to explain themselves to anyone. Unfortunately, over the last two weeks, it didn’t seem as though Aziraphale had wanted to spend much time with Crowley at all. If he had done something to upset Aziraphale, the angel wasn’t letting him in on it.

Crowley sighed, and ran his hands through his hair, trying to think of something that could he do to snap Aziraphale out of this state. New Year’s Eve was in two days. A new decade would begin. A fresh start. They should celebrate, after all. 

  
  
***  
  
  
“Come on, angel. Let’s have some fun!” Crowley grinned at Aziraphale from behind his glass of wine. "I’ll take you anywhere you want to go. We can do anything you want.”

He was back at the bookshop trying to convince Aziraphale that they should go out for New Year's eve. The angel looked as though he was mulling over his options. Finally, he replied simply,

"Very well."

Crowley whispered a silent prayer. “Good! Wonderful..."   
  
Aziraphale bit his lower lip and reached for his glass of wine. He stared back at Crowley.

“On one condition. I would like for you to choose where we're going,” he said.

Crowley nodded. Easy enough.

Aziraphale turned his glass gently in his hand, watching the ruby liquid dip and roll before taking a slow sip. He looked back up at Crowley and the demon found himself momentarily lost in the depth of his blue eyes. Then, in a silky voice that Crowley had only heard him use once before, he added,

“I’ve always rather liked it when you take charge.”

Crowley’s lips parted but no sound came out. Beneath his smooth exterior he was internally screaming. It wasn’t so much what Aziraphale had said as much as it was how he’d said it. Crowley crossed one long leg over the other, hoping to hide the fact that he’d become instantly hard at the angel’s reply.  
  
“Yes, alright,” he managed, barely. “I’ll... surprise you.”

Aziraphale's expression changed, and Crowley realized it was first time in weeks that he'd seen the angel look genuinely happy. Crowley knew that he had one chance to get this right, and he was not going to let Aziraphale down.

The angel smiled. “Good. I look forward to it." 


	2. Chapter 2

Crowley was in full panic mode.

The angel had been acting strangely for the last two weeks but this absolutely took the cake. Was Crowley losing it or had Aziraphale been flirting with him? The demon had quite a knack for reading too much into things that weren’t there. But then again… he angel had tried to tempt him before, and that had not just been in his head. That had been very real. No, Crowley decided, it had been unmistakable. Aziraphale would never have said those words, in that tone of voice, without intending for him to pick up on it. In any case, the only thing that mattered now was that Aziraphale had agreed to spend New Year's Eve with him and Crowley was determined to get the angel out of the bookshop as well as out of whatever slump he was in. 

New Year’s Eve had not typically been of much importance to Crowley or Aziraphale. After all, they’d been around since the dawn of time and long before the Gregorian calendar was in effect. December 31st was just any other day to them. In spite of all of their years on earth, the angel and demon had spent only a single New Year’s Eve together in history. It was during their very first year working undercover at the Dowlings' residence while raising Warlock. The Dowlings, charming socialites that they were, had thrown an incredibly rowdy celebration at their manor. Dozens of guests had been in attendance and even the resident staff was invited to celebrate that evening. Nanny Ashtoreth had not been much for parties and mostly kept to herself for the evening. Meanwhile, Brother Francis had gotten into the rum well before midnight, and after knocking over a priceless vase in the living room and trying unsuccessfully to “magic” it back together, Nanny Ashtoreth stepped in to help him back to his cottage on the far side of the property. The next day, rumors spread like wildfire that the nanny and the gardener had spent the night together. That was the last year that two of them made an appearance at a New Year’s Eve party.

The week before, Crowley had received an email from Anathema Device. She and Newt were planning to have a small get-together for New Year’s at the cottage in Tadfield and both he and Aziraphale were invited to join them. Anathema had tried to reach Aziraphale by phone but to no avail. Big surprise there. Crowley despised making small-talk and spending several hours of forced conversation with humans did not appeal to him at all. 

He wondered briefly if it would it appeal to Aziraphale. Perhaps not if this was meant to be a date. Was it meant to be a date? How was he supposed to tell? Maybe what he needed to see was a literal neon sign flashing above Aziraphale's head with the words: _"Yes I am interested in you, you idiot"_. Or maybe he was just reading too much into this. Whatever the case, Crowley wanted to impress Aziraphale and he was going to do just that.

Crowley leaned back in ancient his royal throne with his long legs splayed out across the desk in front of him. This was the place where the demon did his best scheming. Poised there, on the very seat where once the most formidable of medieval kings at ruled, he felt powerful and undeniably at his most evil. Almost all his best temptations were conceived here, and this would be no different.  
  


***

  
Aziraphale settled back with a sigh against the exquisitely soft throw pillows on his bed. He was still thinking about Crowley's reaction earlier when he had decided to test the waters a bit. The demon had come completely undone and all it took were a few well-chosen words. Aziraphale had practically heard Crowley's heart kicking up into overdrive.

The angel reached down and stroked himself gently with one hand. The look on Crowley’s face had been more than enough kindling to get his fire started for the evening, not that it ever took much these days. Yes, he’d been feeling out of sorts lately. Parting ways with Heaven and everything he had taken for granted for his entire existence was not an easy pill to swallow, and Aziraphale had appreciated both Crowley’s concern and his attempts to keep his spirits up. But this was not the only reason why the angel had been spending so much time in bed lately. 

Aziraphale had finally come to terms with the fact that he helplessly, irrevocably in love with Crowley. He desperately wanted to experience again the way Crowley had made him feel that night long ago at the bookshop. Everything had seemed so real, and his own body had responded in ways he hadn't thought was possible up until that moment. There had been something so incredibly thrilling about having Crowley in control of his pleasure, and the angel had been far too nervous to ask for it again. Until now.

Crowley had warned Aziraphale about what might happen if the angel ever tried to tempt him again. It made sense. Seducing an angel into sin would undoubtedly be a powerful temptation to any demon, even one that you were on good terms with, and surely wasn't a good idea for an angel to act on his desires and sleep with a demon. The idea that Heaven might find out and punish Aziraphale, or worse, come after Crowley, had kept him from following his heart. So he had closed that particular book and never picked it up again. Now that they were free to act on their own accord, Aziraphale had pulled that old book out again, dusted it off, and gingerly opened the cover. Aziraphale was finally working up the courage to tell his best friend that not only was he in love with him, but that he desperately wanted the demon to seduce him, tease him with that wicked tongue, and leave him begging for release. Aziraphale wanted Crowley in every way possible and he was hoping that tonight he would finally get what he wanted.

***

When he heard a knock at the bookshop door at 9 o'clock sharp, Aziraphale wasted no time answering it. There stood the love of his life, dressed impeccably in a fitted black suit, with his red hair immaculately coiffed and that typical sheepish grin on his face. Crowley was holding an expensive bottle of champagne in one hand and a jewelry box in the other.

“Hello, angel.”

Aziraphale felt the warmth brimming in his cheeks as he smiled back at the impossibly classy-looking demon in his doorway. It was difficult not to blush. By human standards, it certainly appeared as though Crowley was ready to take someone out on a date. And by some incredible miracle, that someone happened to be him.

Crowley inhaled sharply as he studied this new version of Aziraphale. The angel, who almost never changed his outfit for anything, was dressed in a sharp navy-blue suit with a white shirt, dark blue bow tie and chestnut brown dress shoes. He looked extraordinarily attractive to the point that Crowley had to consciously stop himself from crowding the angel against the doorway and kissing him senseless.

“"You look... wow.” It was the only word he managed to choke out.

The angel seemingly flustered by Crowley’s remark, began chattering away. "Oh, thank you. When you said formal attire, I figured I'd better change things up a bit. You look quite dashing yourself, my dear. Is that for me?” He nodded at the bottle of champagne.

Crowley looked down as though he’d completely forgotten that he’d been carrying anything in his arms.

“Oh, yes. Well, I thought we could share this bottle of bubbly either before we left, or, uhm... later.” _Oh, very smooth_ _you idiot_. Fortunately, the angel didn’t seem to notice. He was focused on the other item in Crowley’s hands.  
  
“And…the jewelry box?”  
  
Crowley held the small grey box out to Aziraphale. “This is for you. It’s … well, why don’t you just open it?”  
  
“You really shouldn’t have, Crowley.” Aziraphale cautiously took the box from him, excitement flickering across his face.  
  
Crowley shrugged nonchalantly and leaned awkwardly against the door frame. He realized how uncomfortable he must look right now, but he didn't care. In almost any other situation, with any other person, Crowley was the very definition of suave: oozing a confidence that other demons only dream of having. Not so with Aziraphale. With the angel, Crowley was vulnerable in a way that he came to crave. He found it equal parts refreshing and intimidating.  
  
Aziraphale carefully opened the lid and gasped in astonishment. Inside was a hand-crafted modern mechanical pocket watch on a chain. It was rose gold on the outside with exquisite embroidery around the clock face. It had gold hands and indexes and the intricately crafted mechanical gear system was visible in behind.  
  
“My word….” breathed Aziraphale as he plucked the timepiece from the box. “Crowley. This is beautiful.”

“I know you have a pocket watch already, but this one actually has an alarm function built in, so you can take your naps without losing track of time,” said Crowley with a cheeky grin. "That and this one's inscribed."

"Inscribed?"

“Turn it over.”  
  
Aziraphale carefully turned the watch over in his hand. On the back, a single sentence was engraved.

  
  
_Angel,_

_To the world, and to another 6000 years together.  
_ _  
-C_

  
  
Crowley swallowed as he watched Aziraphale read over the inscription. The angel looked as though he was about to cry. He delicately replaced the pocket watch he had been wearing with Crowley’s new one, admiring the contrast between the rose gold chain and his dark blue coat.  
  
“My dear, this is the most incredible gift that I’ve ever received. Thank you.” Aziraphale leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on the demon’s cheek.  
  
Crowley nearly fell over and had to brace himself against the door frame. _Okay, this is definitely a date_ , he thought, his cheeks burning from blushing so furiously.

“Shall we, uh, get going then?” Aziraphale asked.

"Right. Let's go."  
  
They crossed the busy street to the Bentley, and Crowley, in a completely un-Crowley-like move, held the door open for Aziraphale to get in. This gesture earned the demon another enamored smile from the angel and it made Crowley's heart skip a beat.  
  
“Since we’re both dressed to nines tonight, shall I hazard a guess that we are headed somewhere fancy?” asked Aziraphale, once they were en route.  
  
“You’ll see once we get there,” replied Crowley, not wanting to tip his hand too soon.  
  
“If we get there,” Aziraphale said with a sly smile, making a show of glancing down at his new pocket watch. “I couldn’t help but notice that you’re driving more slowly than usual, Crowley.”  
  
Crowley stared back at him, eyebrows raised in disbelief. “Oh, now I’m going too slow for you, am I, angel?"

"I just wouldn’t want us to be late, that’s all,” teased Aziraphale in a haughty voice.

Crowley scowled at him. "I was just trying to keep things more at your speed. You know, glacial.”

Aziraphale bristled at the barb. “Very funny, Crowley." 

“Alright, angel, you want me to pick up the pace?” Crowley growled, revving the engine and switching up through the gears. “You’d better hold on.”  
  
The Bentley roared to life and suddenly they were flying through the downtown core, weaving impossibly fast through traffic lights and around other vehicles, which flew by like colourful blurs. Aziraphale, let out a startled yelp and braced himself against the Bentley’s glove compartment with one hand and with the other he gripped Crowley’s thigh in a tight squeeze.

In order to keep from crashing into something at the demonic speed they were going, Crowley needed to be able to do two things: concentrate, and to keep his eyes on the road. With the angel's hand now on his thigh Crowley had little hope of maintaining either of those actions for very long. Gritting his teeth, he shifted down until they were driving with the regular flow of traffic. Aziraphale only then seemed to realize that he was still holding on to Crowley’s leg and gently let go with shy smile. 

“Something wrong, dear?” he asked.

Crowley gripped the steering wheel tightly as he drove, trying to hide the fact that he had been burning up inside ever since the angel had kissed him. Now he also had to contend with the erection he'd gotten the moment Aziraphale had squeezed his thigh.

“What? No. I just realized it's probably better to play it safe these days. I want to survive long enough to see the next decade.”

“Ah, quite right," replied Aziraphale, his deep blue eyes glimmering. “Even so, Crowley, you should know that I trust you fully."

“Really? No more 'slow down, Crowley, or you'll get us killed'?"

"Really." Aziraphale was practically glowing with delight. "I'm yours tonight... I trust you'll take care of me?"

Crowley's eyebrows nearly hit the roof. _Oh, Satan, is he trying to discorporate me?_ Crowley thought, desperately trying to keep himself in check. If the angel kept this up, he wasn't sure they were going to make it to their destination at all.

"Right, yeah," Crowley muttered. "Don't worry angel, you'll enjoy yourself, I'll make sure of it."

Aziraphale grinned, and Crowley tried to remember the last time he'd seen Aziraphale so happy.

They finally arrived outside the entrance of the Rosewood Hotel, one of the fanciest hotels in London and where the swankiest New Year’s Eve party in the city happened to be taking place. The gated courtyard was filled with expensive high-end sports cars. A valet approached the Bentley and Crowley rolled his window down.

“I’ll park her myself,” he said to the astonished young man as he pulled ahead. Crowley never allowed anyone else to drive the Bentley, ever. He might have considered letting Aziraphale take the wheel if the angel was ever interested, but so far it had never come up. They quickly found an empty space and parked. Aziraphale reached for the door handle.

“One moment, angel,” Crowley said, and he got out and walked around to the passenger side to open the door for him.

“Oh, why, thank you dear,” Aziraphale said, smiling earnestly. Then, as though it were the most natural thing in the world, Crowley offered his arm to Aziraphale and they walked arm-in-arm towards the front entrance of the hotel.

Throngs of London's elite were lining up at the door to get in. Crowley swung Aziraphale right past the line and up the front steps, much to the chagrin of everyone who was waiting. The doorman who was holding the guest list took one look at Crowley and waved them right through the front door and into the grand lobby of the hotel. As a demon, Crowley was acquainted with various rich local socialites and celebrities. It was nothing for him to get a last-minute invitation to any number of fancy soirees across the city, and money had been no object.

All eyes were on them now. Women were whispering to each other. Men were nodding with approval. Crowley was used to people staring at him but never with the angel on his arm like this. He straightened, letting the dark energy of their collective resentfulness flow through him. It felt good, and for the first time that evening he actually felt like he could do this. Whatever the angel wanted, Crowley would give it to him in spades.

“Why is everyone staring at us?” Aziraphale asked, unaccustomed to so much attention.

“They’re just envious, angel.”

“Envious of you?

Crowley stopped in his tracks and turned to face Aziraphale. He reached up and brushed his fingertips across the angel's soft throat. Aziraphale shivered under his touch, but didn’t move away. In fact, he leaned into it, welcoming the demon’s cool touch against his skin.

“No,” Crowley replied softly. “Because you're here with me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My apologies for taking so long to publish this chapter. I didn't want to rush and post I something I wasn't happy with. I hope it was worth the wait. AND there will be a 4th chapter after this one :)
> 
> *UPDATE* I was not entirely happy with the way this story was going. I got stuck trying to tie it all together with the first story, so I went back and did some significant rewrites of not only this fic but also These Violent Delights. I promise this will end with a bang but it's going to take a bit more time. As always, thank you for reading!

Aziraphale had never been good at hiding his emotions. He was brilliant at finding ways of avoiding them, (cataloguing all of his books by colour, perhaps?). But since the moment Crowley had knocked on his door earlier that evening, the giddiness Aziraphale felt inside was written all over his face. He had faith no matter where the evening took them, everything was going to be okay. 

That was until they stepped into the lobby of the luxurious Rosewood Hotel. There were hundreds of people crowding around and everyone was staring at them as though they were celebrities on the red carpet.

"I don’t do pictures,” protested Crowley as he and Aziraphale were jostled in front of a glittery backdrop. Glasses of champagne were thrust into their hands and a professional photographer began to pose them for a photo.

“Now squeeze in a bit and pretend you like each other,” directed the photographer, as he smushed them together. “And smile!”

Aziraphale clung stiffly to Crowley as the demon flashed the camera his most sarcastic grin. The flash went off, capturing forever in time the faces of a sexually frustrated angel and an emotionally overwhelmed demon.

“It will be available on our website tomorrow!” shouted the photographer above the noise.  
  
“Lovely, thank you,” mumbled Aziraphale, giving him a half-hearted wave as he and Crowley walked away. "I haven't been to a party of this magnitude since the 1920's."

Crowley nodded. "Well, the theme tonight is the roaring 20's, so you should feel right at home."

As they climbed the winding staircase to the main ballroom, a bearded man flashed both he and Crowley an alluring smile. It seemed to be more than just than just a friendly greeting. Aziraphale blushed and tucked in closer to Crowley, who gave him a little nudge.  
  
“You alright, angel?”  
  
Aziraphale nodded hesitantly. “Yes, perfectly alright dear. I’m just not used to so much attention all at once.”

“People are just excited because it’s New Years Eve and this is the top party in the city.”  
  
“Right, of course.” Aziraphale decided to take Crowley’s word for it, but he couldn’t help but feel that there was something else going on.  
  
Once they arrived at the grand ballroom, it was clear that this was no ordinary party. The place was practically dripping in decadence. Glittering chandeliers made of Swarovski crystals hung from the ceiling. Lengthy buffet tables were filled to the brim with ever type of food imaginable and staff wearing tuxedos were weaving through the room handing out canapes and glasses of wine. There were multiple bars to choose from, serving only top-shelf liquor, and a massive ice sculpture of a mermaid stood over to one side. In the center of the room was giant dance floor, already crowded with guests.

"This is absolutely incredible," said Aziraphale excitedly, as he made his way over to a buffet table piled high with fresh seafood of every conceivable kind. “Crowley, look! Oysters!”

An hour or so later (and several drinks in), Aziraphale had given up on any remaining apprehensiveness that he'd been feeling earlier, and bravely led Crowley out onto the dance floor. Neither of them knew how to dance to modern pop music, which seemed to be the genre of the evening, but the angel was a quick study, copying dance moves from other people to varying degrees of success. He rolled his eyes at Crowley who was just standing there, looking uncomfortable as anything.

"Perhaps a different style of music is in order,” Aziraphale said to Crowley, and nodded towards the DJ. “Surely he must have something more to your taste.”  
  
Crowley shrugged. “I seriously doubt that.”  
  
“Something slower might be nice.”

The uptempo song that had been playing abruptly ended, and was replaced by the soft sweeping keys of a classical piano piece. Everyone on the dance floor stopped and stared. The DJ was now fiddling with his equipment with a very concerned expression.  
  
“Aziraphale, you can’t put on Chopin in a place like this!” Crowley scolded as he tried to suppress a laugh.  
  
“I can, and I did!” Aziraphale grinned.  
  
“We’ll have a riot on our hands in a minute.”  
  
Aziraphale raised a defiant eyebrow. “I’ll switch it back if you promise me one dance.”  
  
Crowley groaned, and Aziraphale could tell the demon wasn't about to deny him anything tonight.  
  
“Fine. One dance. But not to this song.”  
  
“Very well.” The angel snapped his fingers and a contemporary song started playing. Aziraphale watched, captivated, as everyone on the floor began to pair up, falling into each other’s arms. The pace was just slow enough that there was only one way to dance to it. 

“This… is what you want to dance to?” sputtered Crowley as Aziraphale moved closer to him.  
  
“Yes.”

Aziraphale opened his palm and held it out towards Crowley, who stared at it indecisively for a moment. Then with deft precision Crowley laced their fingers together and slipped his other hand around Aziraphale's waist, pulling him close. Aziraphale let out a soft noise of surprise, and Crowley's cheeks turned an endearing shade of red. Aziraphale reached up and rested his left hand gently over Crowley's shoulder. They began to sway together, at first to the tempo of the music, and then to a rhythm that was theirs alone.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Aziraphale asked, echoing Crowley’s earlier concern for him.

"M'alright, angel,” Crowley replied.

Another moment later and Aziraphale had leaned in and nuzzled his cheek against Crowley’s, and the demon leaned into the warmth of him, just as he often did if they’d been out together on a cold December day. Crowley smelled like leather and cinnamon and smoke, and the angel found it intoxicating. He breathed in deeply, allowing the scent to fill him up, and savoring the moment as he swayed in Crowley’s arms. Aziraphale wished that this moment could be frozen in time. They always needed a reason. They could never just hold one another for the sake of it. There was normally this chasm between them, something that seemed to stretch far too wide to cross, but not now, not when they were already this close. Warily, Aziraphale titled his head to look up at Crowley, just as the demon tipped his head down to meet his gaze. 

If Aziraphale wanted more, then he knew he was going to have to say something.

The moment was over. The song they'd been dancing ended and an intense bass line was pounding once again through the floorboards. Aziraphale did not want to let go of Crowley, but to try to hold on to him longer would leave them both at the mercy of his misfit heart, which might not have been the end of the world. They'd already survived the end of the world, surely they could survive this. But then Crowley backed away, disentangling himself from Aziraphale and running a hand nonchalantly through his red hair. They stood there in silence for a moment as Aziraphale tried to make sense of the icy expression on Crowley’s face. Those god-forsaken sunglasses.  
  
“Another drink, angel?” Crowley asked. Aziraphale nodded and watched as Crowley walked away, meandering through the thick crowd towards the bar, drawing lustful looks from everyone near him.

  
***  
  
  
Crowley stood at the bar, watching with disinterest as the bartender mixed the drinks he'd ordered. He needed something now to calm his nerves after having been that close to kissing Aziraphale. He’d almost done it. It seemed like the perfect moment, and hell, everyone around them had been making out furiously. He was well aware that he was the source of all of this rampant sexual tension. When Crowley was on, he was on, and well, it tended to rub off on other people. It was starting to seem like everyone wanted a piece of him, and each other.

Crowley suddenly felt a hand on his arm. He looked up, expecting to see Aziraphale. Instead, there was an incredibly attractive woman in an impossibly tight dress snuggling up beside him. Crowley recognized her as the granddaughter of the owner of the Rosewood. They’d met only once before, but he never forgot a name. 

“Hello, Anthony.”

And apparently, she hadn’t forgotten his.

“Gemma, it’s good to see you. Are you enjoying the party?”  
  
“Oh, I’m having the time of my life,” she replied, tracing her long red nails up and down his arm. “I’d ask you to buy me a drink, but I don’t pay here.”  
  
“Funny how that works,” said Crowley, considering he himself hadn’t paid for a single drink that evening either.

Gemma gave Crowley a long appreciative once-over. “Someone's dressed to kill tonight.”  
  
Crowley gritted his teeth, irritated by her presence. “That’s me, a weapon of mass destruction.”  
  
She leaned in and kissed Crowley behind the ear. “I’ll come find you at midnight,” she whispered. “I hear there will be fireworks.”  
  
Crowley dug his nails into bar top. “Yeah, that’s not…” He turned and saw that Gemma had already slunk off into crowd somewhere. “…Happening.”  
  
By the time the drinks were ready, Aziraphale was no longer standing in the place where Crowley left him. It only took a moment of searching before Crowley spotted Aziraphale heading for the staircase to the lobby.  
  
_Fuck._  
  
Crowley opened his mouth to call out to him, but quickly realized that his voice would never register above the pounding dance music. He tossed the drinks back down onto bar and rushed after Aziraphale. As Crowley reached the hotel lobby, Aziraphale was nowhere to be seen. He forced his way through the throngs of people at the front door.  
  
“Sir!” someone called after him. “If you leave the premises, you won’t be allowed back in.”  
  
“Do I look like I give a shit?” Crowley hissed, waving him off and sauntering out into the crisp night air. It didn’t take long for him to spot Aziraphale. The angel was making a beeline towards the valet area where they’d parked the Bentley.  
  
“Angel!” Crowley yelled as he hurried after him. “Where are you going?”  
  
“I just needed some air,” Aziraphale said as he walked on, refusing to look at Crowley.  
  
“All the way out here?”  
  
Aziraphale didn’t answer. Crowley matched the angel’s pace, walking alongside him. “Look, I know this isn’t your usual scene. We can go somewhere else if you like-”

“There's no problem with the venue.”  
  
“Then why are you upset?”  
  
“I'm not upset, Crowley,” Aziraphale replied stubbornly as they finally reached the Bentley. “I’m fine.”  
  
“You’re not _fine_ , Aziraphale,” Crowley replied, his tone of voice sharper than he had intended. “As a matter of fact, you haven’t been acting _fine_ in weeks.”  
  
Aziraphale let out a frustrated sigh. “Really, Crowley. It doesn’t matter.”  
  
“It matters to me!” Crowley snapped loudly, his voice carrying across the grounds. He froze. Now Aziraphale was looking at him, his lower lip quivering in anger, and his hands trembling at his sides. He hadn’t meant to raise his voice at Aziraphale, but it was too late for that now. Crowley's demonic nature took over and instead of apologizing for his outburst, he decided that he was going to needle Aziraphale a little more. After all, maybe a good row was exactly what the angel needed.  
  
“What happened to ‘I trust you, Crowley?’" he pressed on. "Why did you come here with me in the first place? Were you just humoring me? Do you think I haven't noticed all the times you've turned me away this last month, so that you could stay home? I know there's something going on, I'm not an idiot, Aziraphale. And don't tell me it's because you miss being used as a punching bag by the other angels."

Aziraphale was seething now, glowering at Crowley with his arms crossed indignantly across his chest. Crowley could have sworn that Aziraphale was about to tell him to fuck off, and, in those exact words.   
  
“Come on, Aziraphale,” Crowley growled, stepping forward and crowding Aziraphale against the Bentley until angel's back was pressed firmly against the cold metal. “Enlighten me. Tell me why you're upset. What have I done wrong?”

  
“Crowley! Could you not, just for one second, switch that _thing_ off?”  
  
The indignation in the angel’s voice caught Crowley off guard. He took a step back. “switch what off?”  
  
Aziraphale shook an accusatory finger at Crowley’s chest. “You know. Your… allure! Whatever it is that has people falling all over you all night long!”  
  
_Oh._ Oh. And there it was. The truth. In 6000 years, Crowley had never known Aziraphale to have been jealous of anything or anyone, ever. And certainly not because of _him_. Crowley’s resolve suddenly crumbled.  
  
“I’m not doing it on purpose, angel,” he said apologetically. “Humans just tend to gravitate towards me. Demon, remember? It’s not the sort of thing I can just switch off.”  
  
Aziraphale stared at him, his face white as a sheet. “But it’s never been like _this_ before. You must have some control over it? I mean, I’ve watched you use it to your advantage.”  
  
Crowley hesitated. “Well, yeah, but I’ve got to concentrate to make that happen. Sometimes when people are around me, they tend to pick up a bit of residual-”  
  
_Lust? Love?_  
  
Crowley searched for the right words. How could he tell Aziraphale that his own feelings towards the angel were indirectly stimulating the sexual desires of everyone at the party?  
  
“Demonic energy,” Crowley settled on. “And I’ve never known you to be bothered by it before.”

Aziraphale crossed his arms indignantly. “Well, perhaps it wouldn’t bother me so much if you ever were to focus any of that… _demonic energy_ … on me.”  
  
“What?” Crowley stared back at him in disbelief.   
  
Aziraphale's lips were pulled into a tight pout. “You could, you know. Tempt me.”  
  
“I would never try to tempt you, Aziraphale. Not like that.”

“Even if I wanted you to?”  
  
The noise from the party in the background seemed to fade out into nothingness, and all Crowley could hear now was the sound his own ragged breathing and his heart hammering in his chest. The last time Aziraphale had made this request of him, it was because the angel wanted to learn how seduce someone for the purpose of the Arrangement. Now here they were again, years later, except now they no longer had the Arrangement. It was just the two of them, free to decide and free to choose what they wanted. This was what Aziraphale wanted? Crowley trembled, feeling splayed open and raw. There was nowhere to hide.

“Angel-”  
  
“I suppose I haven’t been clear enough about my intentions, which isn’t fair.” Aziraphale continued, twisting his fingers around the material of Crowley’s coat, and took a deep breath. “I haven’t forgotten about what happened between us, all those years ago. In fact, I can’t stop thinking about it.”  
  
Crowley felt his own hands trembling now. His pulse was jumping in his throat. Aziraphale had been thinking about him… in that way. The same way he’d been thinking about the angel. It was almost too much to process. He couldn't find words, but Aziraphale did.   
  
“I can’t stop thinking about the weight of your body pressed against mine," Aziraphale was saying. "The way your skin felt, so hot to the touch...” 

The angel was blushing hard. He chewed at his lower lip, unable to look directly at Crowley anymore because Crowley was watching him, hanging off of every word. “I can't forget about the perfect way our mouths fit together when you kissed me." Aziraphale swallowed, his stance faltering slightly. "And then, when you…”

Crowley had closed the gap between them without realizing he’d even taken a step. He pinned Aziraphale against the side of the Bentley and kissed him hard. The angel’s eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of Crowley’s lips pressing steadfast against his own, and he leaned into the kiss, pulling Crowley towards him until they were practically on top of each other. Crowley kept one hand on the roof of the Bentley to stead himself lest his knees gave out. Kissing the angel was even better than he'd hoped it would be. It was too much and not enough all at the same time. And Crowley wanted more.  
  
“Tell me that you want me,” Aziraphale demanded as he groaned against Crowley's mouth. He was clutching unsteadily at Crowley’s hips in an effort to hold himself upright. 

Crowley's millennia-long list of excuses to fall back crumbled into dust. He couldn’t lie to Aziraphale, not anymore.

“I want you, angel. I’ve always wanted you.”

Aziraphale kissed Crowley back, more fervently now, spurred on by the demon's response.  
  
“Then take me.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so excited to post this chapter! I rewrote nearly the entire thing before I was happy with it. And yes, this is my first time writing a full on sex scene so I hope it thrills you to read it as much as it thrilled me to write it!  
> *Also I'm not British but I did try to get the vocab right!

“Then take me,” Aziraphale said as the kiss broke apart.

Crowley took a step back. His mind was racing, his heart was soaring, and his body… well that froze up. He had successfully tempted an angel. Having Aziraphale ready and willing in his arms was a dream of Crowley’s since they had met that first day on that wall in the garden of Eden.

So why was he hesitating?

Crowley had never admitted this to anyone, but one thing that he’d come to learn about himself over the centuries was that he lived to please Aziraphale. A bashful smile here, a longing glance there… those expressions on the angel’s face were hard-earned and Crowley reveled in every single one of them. It was all part of the longest cat-and-mouse game in history; one that the angel and demon had been playing since the dawn of time. Crowley would never tire of it. In fact, he was willing to risk everything for it.

By inscribing that pocket watch with a promise for a future together, by bringing Aziraphale to this party tonight, by kissing the angel madly in a car park… this entire evening had been a risk. And now, Aziraphale had basically just given him carte blanch to ravish him. Any self-respecting demon would take such an opportunity if it presented itself.

The angel wanted him, just like everyone else at the party wanted him. It should not have mattered _why_ Aziraphale had fallen under Crowley’s spell, only that he _had_. It should not have mattered that Crowley was in _love_ while Aziraphale was merely in _lust_. Crowley lived to please Aziraphale and so it could go without saying that the demon would do anything for him, up to and including giving himself to the angel entirely. Even if it meant hiding his true feelings from Aziraphale to do it.

The demon removed his glasses and searched the angel’s pale blue eyes, looking for something... _anything..._ that might reveal even a trace of doubt behind them. He found none. “Christ, Aziraphale,” he finally said, a nervous smile curling its way across his lips. “Right here?”  
  


* * *

* * *

Crowley could not recall lifting Aziraphale up onto the cool metal bonnet of the Bentley, nor could he remember Aziraphale tearing his tie from his neck or how the angel’s coat had ended up crumpled on the windscreen beside them. All he could focus on was what was happening now. Aziraphale’s thick thighs were wrapped tightly around his hips as Crowley devoured the angel's mouth. His fingers twisted wildly in those platinum curls and Aziraphale shuddered against him, his nails digging into Crowley's skin in an effort to feel every inch of the demon’s agile body against his own. The two of them fit together so perfectly, it was like magic. 

Someone whistled. Someone else clapped and cheered. A decent-sized crowd of onlookers had formed around the Bentley. Aziraphale peeked over his shoulder at the small audience that surrounded them. His cheeks were flushed pink as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Well, perhaps not _right_ here, Crowley…” he said sheepishly, amending his previous statement.

Crowley growled angrily as he helped Aziraphale to his feet. “Fuck off! All of you!” The crowd of onlookers scattered. Crowley retrieved his tie and Aziraphale’s coat, then held the door of the Bentley open.

“Get in, angel.”

***

The pair barely made it back to the bookshop in one piece.

With the angel’s hand resting leisurely on his thigh one again, Crowley had driven them home at a rate of speed so intense that Aziraphale was quite sure it had been illegal five times over. Even so, the few minutes that it took to make it there was enough for the angel to start second-guessing himself.

It was undeniable that Crowley wanted to claim him physically; that much was obvious. And, now that he had tempted Crowley, he was certain that the demon would make good on his word. In fact, he was counting on it. But Aziraphale also had to wonder if a temptation was all this was to Crowley or would ever be.

The eternal ebb and flow of Aziraphale’s relationship with Crowley had existed harmoniously for thousands of years and Aziraphale never would have wanted to do anything to knock those stars out of alignment. That being said, the near-apocalypse and the fallout afterwards had drastically shifted their trajectory through time and space. There was no going back to the way things were before. There was no choice but to move forward. Aziraphale longed for Crowley in a way he couldn’t fully understand. He wanted more than just dinners out and tickets to a favorite play. He wanted more than just long conversations lasting through the night and into morning. His feelings for Crowley were so strong that he could no longer brush them aside or hide them behind a facade of good intentions. Deep inside, Aziraphale knew he needed to tell Crowley that he was in love with him.

Any chances of that happening, however, were put on hold the second they were through the bookshop door. Crowley was on Aziraphale almost immediately, kissing him fiercely and slamming him up against the nearest wall. The angel did not struggle as the demon pinned his arms above his head and leaned in to taste him again, this time running his tongue along the length of Aziraphale’s throat. Aziraphale shivered and arched his back with a groan, drowning in the sensation of Crowley’s lava hot tongue against his cool skin.

“You are so bloody gorgeous, angel,” Crowley all but growled as he tugged Aziraphale’s bow tie loose. “I want to taste you everywhere.” The demon kissed and sucked his way down the front of Aziraphale’s chest, loosening buttons as he went and leaving soft bruises in his wake. 

“And you, my dear, are beautiful,” Aziraphale whispered, reaching out to capture Crowley’s jaw between his thumb and forefinger. Crowley caught Aziraphale's hand and pressed his lips against the inside of his wrist, allowing the tips of his sharp teeth to graze along the soft pleasure point there. Aziraphale let out another moan and closed his eyes, forgetting entirely about the conversation he had meant to have.

“Tell me exactly what you want,” Crowley hissed as he placed desperate kisses against Aziraphale’s cheek and jawline. “I need to hear it.”

The familiar thrill of desire coursed through Aziraphale’s body and he felt his cock twitch expectantly beneath the constraints of his trousers. He glanced down at Crowley who was currently nipping and sucking possessive little marks onto his chest and neck. Crowley, who was the embodiment of every desire Aziraphale had ever had. Crowley, who would do anything for him without a second thought. And now, Crowley was his, at least for tonight. He could probably have asked for anything and Crowley would eagerly indulge him.

“Touch me,” Aziraphale demanded, his mouth moving on its own accord. With a lustful gleam in his eye, Crowley trailed both hands softly down Aziraphale’s bare chest and across his plentiful hips, finally sliding them behind the curve of his arse. The demon found purchase beneath one of Aziraphale’s thighs and lifted it up, allowing him to press his hips more firmly against the angel. This position was even more tantalizing, Aziraphale realized, because now he could feel the full extent of Crowley’s arousal beneath him. The demon was hungry for him, and Aziraphale knew better than to keep him waiting.  
  
“I want these off,” Aziraphale said, tugging at Crowley’s ridiculously tight trousers. “And, I want you upstairs, in my bed. Now.”  
  
“Mmmm… angel, I love it when you talk that way,” Crowley replied, his voice dripping with lust. With a snap of his fingers, they were instantly lying in Aziraphale’s bed. Crowley was now undressed down to his underwear, and Aziraphale drew in a shuddered breath as he admired the demon’s nearly naked form beside him. He hadn’t seen Crowley undressed in centuries, and the demon was every bit as beautiful as he remembered. 

Aziraphale leaned forward to kiss Crowley again, pulling the demon down with him. “And I’m beginning to realize,” he whispered breathlessly, “that I quite enjoy telling you what I want.”

Crowley’s feral yellow eyes locked onto his own. “Tell me then, angel… what is it that you want?”

He dipped beneath the sheets and went to work unbuttoning Aziraphale’s trousers, wiggling them down just enough so that he could get at the sensitive spot between the angel’s hip and the top of his thigh. “I can think of more than a few things that I’d like to do…”

Crowley bit down on the inside of Aziraphale’s right thigh and the angel nearly lost it. It hurt but it also felt so incredibly good.  
  
“Do that again, Crowley, please!” Aziraphale begged, embarrassed at how quickly he’d fallen victim to his own selfish desires.

Crowley hummed innocently. “Do what?” he asked.

“Bite me,” Aziraphale moaned. “Harder this time.”

Crowley grinned and obliged him, sinking sharp teeth into the tenderness of the top of the angel’s thigh. This time he used more pressure but not enough to the skin. Aziraphale squirmed beneath him, crying out in pleasure.

“Good?” Crowley asked, even though the answer was obvious.

Aziraphale was staring down at him in rapture with heavy-lidded eyes. “Oh yes dear, amazing really,” he replied. He felt lightheaded and deliriously warm. “Do it again.”

Crowley shimmied Aziraphale’s trousers down even further so that he could have better access to the same spot on the other side. He licked unhurriedly at the angel's milky skin then placed another firm bite on that side too. As Aziraphale moaned and wiggled with delight, Crowley moved forward and nudged at the waistband of the angel’s pants.

“Would it be alright if I undressed you, angel?"

Aziraphale nodded wordlessly and watched with awe as Crowley meticulously removed each article of his clothing, one by one, as though each piece were a gift he was unwrapping in anticipation. The demon even removed the angel’s new pocket watch and placed it carefully on the bedside table. Once Aziraphale was fully undressed, Crowley took a moment to admire him. Aziraphale didn’t have a chance to feel at all self-conscious. There was a look in Crowley’s eyes of pure devotion and adoration, which made him feel completely at ease. It was lovely. He felt safe and cared for… and loved.

Crowley, ever curious, must have noticed the love-struck expression on Aziraphale’s face.

“Alright, angel?” he asked.

“Yes, darling.”

“We don’t have to go any further, if you don’t want to.”

Aziraphale paused. “You once told me what would happen if I ever tried to seduce you again, Crowley. I promise that I knew what I getting myself into tonight."

Crowley stared him down. He almost looked a bit hurt. “Aziraphale, forget what I said. I’m a demon, I’m not a monster. Just say the word and we can stop. I don’t want you to feel pressured in any way.”

Aziraphale realized his mistake and felt instantly terrible. He pulled Crowley towards him. “I want this, Crowley. I want you. I… Whatever happens between us, I know that it will be alright because it’s you.”

Crowley seemed to relax a bit at that.

“Because it’s us,” he agreed, placing a reverent kiss on Aziraphale’s cheek. "I want this too."

“Then please, Crowley… have me, claim me, make me yours,” Aziraphale whispered, lacing his fingers through Crowley’s own. “I think we have both waited long enough.”

Crowley leaned in to kiss Aziraphale again, this time taking his time and exploring every inch of the angel’s soft mouth with his tongue. Aziraphale could feel Crowley’s erection burning hot against his inner thigh as they kissed.

“May I…?” Aziraphale asked. He tugged at the waistband of Crowley’s silk boxers and looked up at Crowley, who miracled the underwear away in the name of urgency.

“Angel, I might discorporate on the spot if you don’t,” he said with a smile, shifting over so that Aziraphale could get at him properly.

Aziraphale held his breath and began concentrating on stroking tentative circles over the head of Crowley’s beautiful cock with his thumb. His touch was cautious at first, but when he noticed the immediate effect it was having on Crowley, he began to slide his entire hand up and down the length of him in a slow and steady rhythm. 

Crowley’s eyes fluttered shut and let out a stifled moan. “Yesss… please do more of that,” he groaned, rolling his hips into Aziraphale's hand. Aziraphale eagerly kept going, increasing the pressure slightly with each drag of his wrist. A minute later and Crowley looked more thoroughly blissed out than Aziraphale had ever seen him.

“Can’t let you have all the fun,” Crowley said. Without warning, the demon rolled onto his back and pulled Aziraphale on top of him so that the angel sat straddling his hips. He groaned in appreciation at the sight of Aziraphale naked and on top of him, the angel’s thick cock already slick at the top with his own arousal.

“But, Crowley- _oh_.”

Aziraphale’s words caught in his throat as Crowley dragged his thumb over the tip of the angel’s cock, causing him to buck against him in pleasure. Crowley gave him a few more strokes like that, swirling the wetness around the head of the angel’s shaft and eliciting several delicious and indecent moans from Aziraphale. When his hand was finally slick with precome, Crowley leaned in and licked at his fingers, savouring the taste of the angel on his tongue. The sight of this made Aziraphale feel weak with desire. 

Crowley caught him watching with interest. “Would you like a taste, angel?” he purred.

Aziraphale nodded and threw himself forward to kiss Crowley passionately, chasing the demon’s surprised tongue back into his mouth. He found it rather thrilling to taste his own arousal on Crowley’s lips. 

Now wet and slick, Crowley’s fingertips were exploring further down his body, over his arse, and then pressing gently against his entrance. The sensation was shocking at first but Aziraphale trusted that Crowley knew exactly what would make him feel good. Slowly, tentatively, Crowley pushed one finger inside the angel, then another. Aziraphale allowed himself to relax into it, delighting in this brand new sensation of being filled. Crowley pushed a little further into him, stretching Aziraphale open in small increments, and the angel decided rather quickly that he wanted more. Craved it, actually.

“Does this feel okay?” Crowley asked.

“Yes, Crowley. Please don’t stop.” 

Then, as if what everything Crowley was doing already wasn’t enough to drive Aziraphale crazy, the demon began to jerk him off again in tandem with the pulse of his fingers. Aziraphale bucked hard against him, whimpering for more. Crowley slipped a third finger in and curled it against that sweet spot deep inside him. Aziraphale was surprised how open he felt already and began to grind more earnestly against Crowley’s hand, fucking himself open on Crowley’s fingers, utterly consumed with every physical sensation his human body was currently having. He silently cursed himself for not having sex with Crowley years ago.

“Crowley, please… I need you," Aziraphale said breathlessly. "All of you.” 

“Then you’ll have me, angel,” Crowley said sweetly, sliding his fingers free and guiding the angel into place. With an elated smile, he reached up to cradle Aziraphale's cheek with the palm of his hand, stared back at Aziraphale in pure awe as the angel sunk down, inch by inch, on his waiting cock. Aziraphale leaned into Crowley's touch as he savored the delicious stretch of Crowley's cock filling him. He closed his eyes and rolled his shoulders, releasing all the tension he’d had in his body up until that point. It was not until that moment that Aziraphale realized just how empty he'd been before without Crowley’s thick heat filling him so completely and wonderfully. Now he felt whole, as though this was how he was always meant to be. Filled to the brim and complete.

Crowley’s entire body was shaking and trembling and Aziraphale could feel the demon’s cock twitching inside him. Still, Crowley did not move. He waited for Aziraphale, who set the pace slowly, rising and settling back down in careful increments. As the angel began moving more confidently, Crowley groaned and rolled his own hips up until the angel's were flush to his own. Aziraphale sighed with ecstasy as Crowley sank even deeper inside him.

“Oh, fuck, angel. You feel so good,” Crowley swore, clutching the angel’s arse in his hands and spreading him open further. Aziraphale normally disapproved of Crowley’s use of expletives, but now, hearing Crowley swearing multiple times over while feeling him thrust deep inside turned Aziraphale on all the more.

“And you, darling…”

Aziraphale found he couldn’t finish his sentence. The pleasure of it was maddening. This was nothing compared to the fantasies he’d held on to all this time. It was a million times better. Crowley sat up and pulled Aziraphale into a passionate kiss, licking into his mouth with abandon and sliding his hand over the angel's cock once again. Awash with pleasure, Aziraphale gripped Crowley’s hair firmly in one hand and pulled just hard enough that the demon arched his head back, his lips parting with a moan. It was then that Aziraphale realized he was head over heels for just about everything to do with Crowley’s mouth. Those perfect lips, those teeth that were always just a tad too sharp to be human, that incredibly skilled tongue…

On impulse, he slipped two of his fingers inside Crowley’s mouth and the demon swallowed them down, sucking them in rhythm with his hips as he thrust fervently inside Aziraphale. That was all it took. The combination of sensations hurtled the angel over the edge.  
  
“Oh, fuck,” Aziraphale moaned as he came all over Crowley’s hand. 

Crowley licked his lips and sucked the come off his fingers with a smile. “Angel, that was perfect,” he whispered. “You’re perfect.”

Aziraphale's eyes met Crowley’s and he blushed prettily. “That was incredible,” he mumbled, feeling absolutely drunk on pleasure.

Crowley was trembling again, even inside him. He had obviously been holding himself back.  
  
“I want you to come inside me,” Aziraphale told him, threading his fingers through Crowley’s sweat-drenched hair.  
  
“Are you sure?”  
  
Aziraphale smiled. “I trust you, Crowley. Do you trust me? Not only am I sure, but I would like nothing more.”

An undreadable expression flashed across Crowley’s face and Aziraphale had never seem him look so vulnerable. Crowley silently leaned to kiss Aziraphale again. This time it was a slow and gentle press of his lips against the angel’s; restrained and careful instead of hungry and predatory. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around demon’s neck, holding him as closely to his body as he could get. They continued to rock together and Aziraphale closed his eyes, allowing himself to melt against Crowley’s mouth. Crowley was kissing him so tenderly that Aziraphale could not have mistaken it for anything but an act of love. It was all-encompassing and pure. It was unconditional and eternal. Aziraphale knew he had sensed this feeling around Crowley, but he had stubbornly ignored it every time. He could ignore it no longer.  
  
“Aziraphale…” Crowley groaned, thrusting hard until he came in a euphoric rush, filling the angel with slick wet heat.

Aziraphale clutched onto him tightly, never wanting to let go. As they embraced, the feeling of love washed over Aziraphale, flooding his senses and filling his heart. And he knew. Crowley loved him, more than anything. More than anyone. When Aziraphale finally pulled away, his love was trembling against him, golden eyes damp with tears.  
  
“My darling, what wrong?” Aziraphale asked, cradling the demon in his arms. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to Crowley’s, taking deep steady breaths alongside the demon to help calm him.

Crowley hesitated, hanging tightly to Aziraphale as though he were hanging on to a precipice and about to fall. “Angel, I need you to know that this wasn’t just another temptation to me,” he said, his voice breaking. “I am literally shaking apart right now. Honestly, I didn’t think it would be possible for me to make love to you without you knowing the truth…”

“That you love me?”

Crowley looked up at him in surprise. “You knew?”

Aziraphale smiled. “I could feel it. I think I always could, but it was as though I wasn’t listening. It’s impossible for me to ignore it now and I would never want to try.” 

“It’s always been you, Aziraphale,” Crowley whispered, his whole body trembling as he spoke. “It’s only ever been you. I love you.”

“Oh, darling,” Aziraphale said, placing a kiss on Crowley’s forehead. “I love you too. I should have told you a long time ago.”

“You... do?”

“Crowley, you are, and always have been, the one constant in my life. The one person who knows me better than I know myself. The only one whom I’ve ever really trusted. I love you with everything I am and everything I ever will be.”

“Then I will never leave you,” Crowley promised. “I’m yours forever, Aziraphale.”  
  
“For the next six thousand years?” Aziraphale asked. He reached over and picked up the pocket watch Crowley had given him, fondly admiring the words that were inscribed on the back.  
  
Crowley grinned. “Yes, and even after.”  
  
The demon snapped his fingers and Aziraphale found himself clean and dry in a pair of loosely fitting pajamas. Crowley kissed him again and Aziraphale happily kissed him back before nuzzling into Crowley’s shoulder. Aziraphale imagined that he could stay like this forever, in this bed with Crowley. Or anywhere with Crowley, so long as they could leave from time to time to get lunch.  
  
The angel turned the pocket watch over in his hand to glace at the time. “Oh, it seems that we’ve missed the countdown to midnight, Crowley. And by quite bit, I’m afraid.”  
  
Crowley laughed, genuinely amused. “And here I was looking forward to the possibility of a new year’s kiss from a certain angel. Where has that bottle of champagne got to?”  
  
Aziraphale slapped Crowley’s arm playfully, flashing him a naughty smile. “Hmm. That’s too bad. Well, there's always next year.”  
  
Crowley smirked and slipped his hands around the angel’s waist, snuggling in close to him. “Happy new year, Aziraphale.”  
  
“And to you, my darling Crowley.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illustration by the lovely and talented Whiteley Foster 💜
> 
> Please check out chapter 5 for a bonus scene!


	5. Epilogue

“You _what_?”

Crowley’s fingers slipped and he nearly dropped his glass of red wine. Aziraphale, whose reflexes were deceptively on point, steadied the glass before it tipped onto the floor.

“Careful, my dear. This rug is from the Qajãr Dynasty and I’m not sure how I would ever get the stain out.”

Crowley stared at Aziraphale in utter disbelief. He had forgone his sunglasses and Aziraphale reveled in the fact that he could clearly read every poignant emotion on the demon's face.

“Forget the sodding carpet, angel! You’re telling me that this entire time, you were spending days in bed, wanking off, while thinking about me?”

Aziraphale had the audacity to blush at Crowley’s question as though it were an affront to his virgin ears. “Well, in my defense dear, in the dream you were... exceptionally persuasive.”

Crowley leaned forward in his seat, his expression a stark combination of shock and morbid fascination. “So... you enjoyed that little strip-tease I gave you?”

“Crowley! You told me you knew nothing about that!”

“Mmm. I may have bent the truth slightly,” the demon admitted, and he looked as guilty as a dog who had been caught chewing on its owner’s favorite slippers.

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “I suppose I shouldn’t even be surprised.” 

“Listen, I came home from New York a day early, so I decided to pay you a visit. That’s when I found you fast asleep on that fancy new bed of yours. No doubt it was that dull book you were reading that did you in.”

Aziraphale looked insulted. “Tolstoy is _not_ dull!”

“Right. Anyway, I was still a bit messed up from the week before when you tried to lure me into bed with you.” Crowley gulped back the rest of his wine and reached for the bottle to replenish it. “You have no idea how close I came that night to ripping your clothes off and fucking you senseless.”

“Certainly not the wisest decision on my part…” Aziraphale admitted as he stared into his glass of pinot noir.

Crowley gave a devious little shrug. “Not that I was complaining, but I don’t know if you were ready for that.”

Aziraphale gave him a wry smile. “Perhaps not. Then again, it could have saved us years of wasted time.”

“Yes, but then I couldn’t have enjoyed pining after you incessantly for another two decades.” Crowley’s grin vanished when he saw Aziraphale glaring at him, determinedly not amused.

“Anyhow, I saw you there asleep and figured why not have a little fun? You had asked for a demonstration of my talents, after all.”

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes. “So, let me see if I've got this straight. You were fully aware that I was going to experience this… "fantasy"… in which you came into my shop at night and started peeling off your clothes?”

“No. Possibly. Yes." Crowley shrugged. "I thought it would be funny.”

“Funny? I could think of quite a few words for what you did, and funny is definitely not one of them.”

“Oh, come off it, angel. You think I didn’t catch you staring at me like I was an open buffet every chance you got?” 

Crowley stretched and spread himself out across the sofa, limbs in all directions, almost as though he was posing for an artist to paint him. Aziraphale swallowed, instantly realizing how much Crowley’s posture reminded him of the vivid dream in question. He blinked and tried to collect his thoughts.

“How exactly did you do it?”

Crowley sighed. He seemed slightly miffed that Aziraphale hadn’t taken the bait that he'd just dangled in front of him. 

“I whispered a few suggestions into your ear in demonic tongue, and I left. That’s it.” He straightened and took another swig of wine.

Aziraphale pondered that for a moment. “Why was I naked when I woke up?”

Crowley nearly spit out his wine. “What? I don’t know! You were wearing clothes when I left!” He threw his hands up defensively. “Maybe you miracled them away in the heat of the moment!”

Aziraphale settled back in his armchair from where he’d been perched on the edge of his seat. “I suppose that makes sense. In my fantasy, I believe I was also in a state of undress.”

“Yeah?” Crowley grinned wickedly. “And why was that?”

Aziraphale blushed again, and the corner of his lip curved upwards into a reminiscent smile.

“The trousers I was wearing were becoming quite… restricting," he said, fondly thinking back to the dream in question. "And to be honest, my dear, I was rather impatient to have your mouth on my cock.”

Now it was the demon’s turn to blush, and the angel thought that lovely shade of pink looked quite fetching on him.

“We did _that_ in your fantasy?” Crowley stammered; his crescent pupils blown wide in bewilderment.

Aziraphale was quite convinced that the art of making Crowley squirm was his absolute favorite new hobby, and he intended to master it.

“Oh, yes," the angel continued. He placed his empty wine glass aside and stood up slowly. "In fact, I was rather hoping we might do it again.”

“Oh, fuck, Aziraphale,” Crowley muttered, completely undone in an instant. “I love you.”

Crowley realized that the angel was, without a doubt, the most powerful tempter on earth. If Crowleyc were to possess a crown for being the serpent of temptation, he would have handed it right over to Aziraphale, no questions asked. He had fallen hard and he did not want to be saved.

“And I love you, dearest,” Aziraphale whispered, his eyelashes fluttering in rapture. “Now, I want you on your knees.”

Without breaking eye contact, Crowley slid silently from the couch onto the Persian rug and knelt before Aziraphale, his golden eyes shining with lust. Aziraphale caressed Crowley’s face and slipped his thumb into the demon’s waiting mouth. The demon twisted his tongue around the angel's thumb and sucked at it eagerly, moaning with delight as he did so.

After a few seconds, Aziraphale smiled affectionately and pulled his hand away from the demon’s lips. Crowley hissed at the loss of contact. He licked his lips and flashed another eager look at Aziraphale. “What else?” he asked. "Anything you want, angel."

Aziraphale paused, thoroughly savoring the weight of the moment and the promise of the possibilities which came next. Then he let it go with a grin.

“Show me how good you really are with that tongue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again to all of my readers. Every comment and kudo I've received has inspired me along the way. I love and appreciate you all! Until next time!

**Author's Note:**

> Illustration by the lovely and talented Whiteley Foster 💜


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